


Permanent Mark: Zack

by Thorne



Series: Mark [3]
Category: FFVII
Genre: M/M, Threesome - Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-19
Updated: 2010-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-07 09:23:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorne/pseuds/Thorne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zack makes a gesture that is unfortunately misunderstood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Permanent Mark: Zack

**Author's Note:**

> Part three of the Permanent Mark series, a set of drabbles about various characters' scars and marks.

It wasn't as though Zack wasn't mostly grateful for his life.

On the contrary, sometimes he wondered how he'd gotten so damn lucky. It wasn't exactly paradise, but the paychecks weren't too lean, the housing not too shabby, the bedpartners definitely not too unattractive, and there was usually something needing to be killed, or at least to be hit soundly with a heavy object. It combined most of he liked to do, and he figured he could retire someday feeling that all his talents had been put to good use.

Of course, there were times when things went wrong. There was late night paperwork and early morning departures, whole weeks of only catching a tail-end glimpse of Cloud or Sephiroth going in and out the door, and broken soda machines that either ate his gil or disgorged nothing but diet drinks.

And Sephiroth leaving his fucking boots in the dark hallway _again_ for innocent, tired, and much put-upon people to trip over.

Some nights, he just couldn't catch a break.

Zack sat clutching his twisted ankle and glaring at the closed bedroom door. It wasn't as though he wasn't grateful. He kept telling himself that as he got back on his feet and stepped carefully down the hallway to the bedroom. By the time he got to the door, he was even calm enough to open it quietly and not risk waking the sleepers.

Careful, now. He had a sort of shuffle that he had developed for navigating dark rooms, the equivalent of echo-sonar. Normally he might simply trust his own knowledge of the room and stride fearlessly over every heap of clothes and discarded junk-- he knew where everything was, despite what Cloud or Sephiroth said-- but the little hallway episode was enough. God only knew how many more landmines the other two had unwittingly left.

He finally got to the bed. There was a slight lump and a tuft of blonde hair that was probably Cloud, unless Sephiroth had brought a feather duster to bed with him. Sephiroth always took the open side of the bed so he could come and go more quietly. He slept face-up: mouth firm, smooth brow, his face still holding its strength. Never without dignity but never completely relaxed, either. Zack wondered if Sephiroth would look that way when he was dead.

It was probably just the late hour. Lack of sleep combined with low blood sugar, and Sephiroth looking too still with one wisp of hair across his face. Zack wouldn't wake him, not when he knew how rare it was to actually have Sephiroth asleep longer than him, but he was so still, not vulnerable but lonely in a stupid four a.m. way, and he wouldn't wake him, wouldn't even disturb that quiet mouth, just the forehead. He leaned over the bed, breath barely stirring that wisp of hair--

Sephiroth woke up immediately, reached out, and smashed a water-glass against the left side of Zack's face.

"Motherfucker!" Zack half-yelled, half-gasped, and sat down hard on what turned out to be Cloud.

His face was wet, with blood or water or both. Something stung painfully, he was sure he wasn't crying but he couldn't pin down exactly where the pain, only that it was all over his face. His eye, shit, had a shard gotten his eye? He couldn't see anything; it was all dark, but that was probably because he had his hand clasped over it. If he took it away, would his eye fall out? Was that even _possible_?

Sephiroth was out of the bed already in a half-crouch, no doubt looking wildly for some lethal way to use a clothes hamper.

"Zack?" he said in a questioning tone. And then more decisively, "Zack." And then, "What the hell were you doing?"

"What was _I_ doing?" He gingerly moved his hand away from his face. Definitely blood, although his eye seemed all right. "What were _you_ doing? You _fuckwit_!"

Sephiroth looked slightly discomfited. "I didn't know it was you."

"I fucking live here! This is my house! My bed!"

"It was dark."

"Oh, like _that's_ a great excuse," Zack spat out. "You bastard." He gingerly groped for a tissue. He was soaked. Everything on the bedside table was soaked. There was probably glass on the carpet. God.

"You should know better than to sneak up on me. And." Sephiroth crossed his arms over his chest. "And. It was dark."

"I wasn't sneaking up on you, I was fucking getting into bed and-- you know what, fuck you. There is no way you can come off as the injured party in this one. There is _glass_ in my _face_."

"Well, I wouldn't have done it if I had known it was you," Sephiroth said, as though this seemingly made up for it all. "I'll get you a bandage. It's probably just a scratch."

"Just a scratch, my ass," Zack muttered, and spitefully wiped his bloody hand on Sephiroth's pillow.

"Please," Cloud said in a thin little voice from beneath him, "please, could you get off of me?"

As it turned out, there was first aid kit under the bathroom sink. No materia, but there were at least bandages. No opiate-based painkillers, either. Damn. He sat down on the bathroom toilet and immediately got up again when he saw Sephiroth coming at him with a suturing needle. "No."

"It needs stitches. The infirmary is closed. I know how to do it. Sit down."

"No." He got in the shower and closed the sliding door behind him.

"Zack, get out of the shower."

"No."

"Don't make me come in there."

"Just you try it."

"This is petty and ridiculous."

"I'll tell you what's ridiculous, it's _hitting someone in the face with a goddamn water glass_. And you can leave that stinging stuff under the sink as well."

"I'm not going to put the hydrogen peroxide on you," Sephiroth said calmly. "You'd just try to hit me. Cloud is going to put it on you."

"Well, you'd deserve it. And that's cheating."

"I'm what?" Cloud asked, still yawning but apparently awake enough to register alarm when his name was said.

"Going into the shower and getting Zack out, that's what you're doing." Sephiroth stepped back and propelled Cloud forward firmly.

Cloud stepped up the shower obediently, stared at Zack bewilderedly, and then looked back at Sephiroth. "But he's holding the door shut."

"I know. Take off your clothes or something. That might work."

Cloud turned back to the shower. "Maybe you should come out," he suggested uncertainly to Zack.

"I'm not coming out unless Sephiroth gives me a new coffee table, a month of paid vacation, and a blowjob for every day that month."

Cloud brightened. "Oh." He looked at Sephiroth. "Okay?"

"No."

"Oh, _now_ who's being a petty bastard?"

"Zackary, if you don't come out---"

"_I'm tired_." They both looked at Cloud, who scowled at both of them and looked perilously close to stomping one foot. Zack hoped not; if Cloud did he would probably have to start laughing because it would be ridiculously cute and Cloud would kill him, and he would die with blue balls, and Sephiroth would do unspeakable things to his corpse with the needle.

"I'm tired," Cloud repeated. "I want to go back to bed, so Zack, just come out. Sephiroth's sorry, you know he is, and I'm sure he'll do something to make up for it." He scowled again. "And you _sat_ on me."

"Uh." He let go of the door handle. "Sorry."

Cloud turned to Sephiroth. "You should apologize to Zack," in a tone Zack was ninety-nine percent sure Cloud would never have dared to use if he were more awake.

"I'm sorry," Sephiroth said stiffly to the showerhead.

Zack was torn between being self-righteous or pressing for the promise of sexual favors. "Okay," he finally said when Cloud started screwing up his face in preparation for either lecturing or sad-puppy face, either of which Zack thought could easily be used for a high-grade Shinra weapon.

"Good." Cloud tugged the door open and grabbed his hand. There didn't seem to be much use in resisting, so Zack followed. Sephiroth stepped back against the sink to make room, and Cloud squeezed his hand comfortingly with both of his own hands before sitting down next to the toilet and not letting go. "It'll be okay."

"Okay." Zack shifted and leaned back against the toilet tank again and took a deep breath. "Okay. But if anyone asks, I got this in a bar fight, saving your ass from five bikers."


End file.
